


Winter's Heart

by centreoftheselights



Category: Original Work
Genre: Aromantic, Autumn, Enemy Lovers, F/F, Fae & Fairies, Gen, Personification, Seasons, Sibling Incest (sort of), Sister-Sister Relationship, Spring, Summer, Winter, fairy courts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-27
Updated: 2017-02-27
Packaged: 2018-09-27 06:23:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9980219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/centreoftheselights/pseuds/centreoftheselights
Summary: Beware Lady Winter, they say, for her heart is as cold as ice.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a prompt for aromantic femslash from Tumblr user ramainen-elvie.
> 
> I'm not sure this is what you had in mind.

Beware Lady Winter, they say, for her heart is as cold as ice.

She stalks the land in shadow, her skin as dark as a moonless night and her hair white as snowfall. Her lands are quiet, for nothing lives or grows there, and her palace is filled with high crystal resonances and sharp shards of ice.

At the Court of the Seasons, Winter rarely speaks, but she keeps by her throne a sword of ice that can still the fiercest heart. Her fury is terrible to behold, and she shows no mercy.

Her heart is ice, and it cannot be thawed.

 

Autumn is the closest to Winter of her three sister-queens; next oldest, and in her own way just as raw. She is the diplomat; she walks to Winter's palace from Summer's gates without pause, and she does not step inside without invitation, though her sister has never yet refused her entry.

Her throne is beside Winter's, yet they rarely speak – they have a language of their own, of looks and gestures, that none other understands. On feast days at Court they dance together, high-backed and slow, a dance so old its name has been lost to the ages.

More often, they lie together on the cold ground, Winter's head in Autumn's lap, and stare wordlessly at the bright stars whirling above. Winter braids ribbons of ice into her sister's hair, and Autumn dyes Winter's nails a shining berry-red. On their cool, clear nights together, Winter's heart is still and quiet, heavy with the weight of shared history.

 

Spring is the youngest queen, and the brightest. She wanders where she will, raising snowdrops and crocuses in her wake, bringing life to Winter's quiet lands. Where her warmth touches Winter's ice, she delights in the sound of rushing water, gurgling like a newborn's laugh.

It is not in Winter's nature to be kind, but for Spring she will soften her hard edges, draw back frost from the bulbs and let them wake from their long sleep. She shows her youngest sister the delicate blooms of the rhododendrons and the fresh-smelling heather, and laughs as her sister weaves lungwort in her hair.

When Spring dances, Winter watches her with sparkling eyes. At Court, her gaze turns fierce – a warning to those drawn too close by Spring's bright smile. But when Spring dances for her alone, Winter calls down the snow to dance with her, and her heart delights in the wild winds they call up together.

 

And Summer -

Where Winter is darkness, Summer is light, and everywhere they touch brings crackling sparks and the smell of ozone. Where Winter is hard, Summer is soft, and hot to her cold. The contrast delights Winter and enthrals her; she is bound by it.

When she goes to her sister's bed, they are thunder and lightning together – they rumble, they crash, and they strike. Afterwards, they do not lie in each other's arms – they have never exchanged poetry, and they do not give flowers. At Court, they are more warriors than lovers, though they fight with sharp words and silent games.

Sometimes, as Winter rises from her boudoir, Summer drips honeyed insults, swearing that this shall be the last time – and Winter laughs with a sound like the crashing of icebergs. She knows inevitability, and the two of them can no more break free of each other than they could tear out their own hearts.

 

Beware Lady Winter, her heart is ice, and ice is her power.

Her lands are quiet, for all there lies sleeping, and she guards it alone. Her sword lies sharp by her side, and she raises it only in defence of her loves. Her heart is not easily given, but once won, it forges a bond so strong it shall never bend.

Beware Lady Winter, for her heart cannot break without shattering. And should that ever happen…

 

Beware her sisters too.


End file.
